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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122698">Involuntary Man Candor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/certaintendencies/pseuds/Stirfbot'>Stirfbot (certaintendencies)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Kidnapping, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Truth Serum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:29:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122698</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/certaintendencies/pseuds/Stirfbot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy gets nabbed and truth-serumed. Matt rescues him. There's some soup. Matt's really bad at not asking questions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Involuntary Man Candor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm so bad at titles please don't judge me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matt levels one more vicious kick to the downed man’s ribs and turns, cocking his head to better hear the familiar voice in the distance. Foggy. Mumbling. Yelping. </p><p> </p><p>He stumbles towards the sound, thick boots scuffing across the tiled floor, kicking detritus out of his way. Pots and pans clatter into each other as they skid across the floor. He lands in a doorway, shoulder hitting the jamb hard as he stops once more to focus in. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Jeeze, guys,” </em> Foggy says, voice strangely slurred. <em> “What is </em> in <em> this stuff?” </em></p><p> </p><p><em> “You don’t need to know that,” </em> another voice says, and Matt pushes himself off from the wall and moves towards them. <em> “You just need to know what will happen to you if you don’t answer our questions.” </em></p><p> </p><p><em> “Ominous.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>Matt snorts, picking up speed as he moves down the hall, catching the man coming out of the door to his left with a powerful hook to the throat that drops him to the ground. Matt pauses, briefly, makes sure he isn’t getting up, and moves on.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who is the Daredevil?”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “Ohh. </em> That’s <em> what’s in that stuff. You fuckers whammied me.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Matt hears a thud, and a grunt of pain, and his blood is so loud in his ears he almost misses the woman coming up behind him. She gets all the way to raising her weapon before he registers her and takes her down. She doesn’t manage to get off a shot. </p><p> </p><p>They’re still talking to Foggy. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who is he?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who’s who?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A muffled hit sounds, and Matt lets out a grunt that echoes Foggy’s, continuing towards the sound of his labored breathing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who is the Daredevil?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “He’s… He’s a rascal, that’s who he is. Just a big ole silly billy.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Matt flinches at the next sound, the cloth-covered thump of a punch to the stomach, a wheezing breath, and he doesn’t pause as he crashes through the door, just makes straight for the man who’s still drawing back from Foggy and throws him to the ground. “You don’t touch him!”</p><p> </p><p>“Noo,” Foggy groans, sitting up from where he was hunched over. “You’re ‘posed to say ‘<em> I’m Daredevil </em>’ all dramatically.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt, who punches out the man on the ground and turns to grab the other one by his collar, rolls his eyes beneath the mask. “Shut up, Foggy.” He yanks the man down, feels something crack against his knee. </p><p> </p><p>“Call me Mr. Nelson, please,” Foggy says, slurring happily. “We’re barely acquaintances, as far as these gentlemen know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Apologies, Mr. Nelson,” Matt grunts, shoving the man head first into the corner of a metal table with a satisfying clang. Something falls, landing with a thud and a puff, and Matt's nose twitches. He hates drugs.</p><p> </p><p>“Matty,” Foggy says, quieter, and Matt drops the guy, stumbles over to Foggy and reaches out gently, fingers tracing Foggy’s shoulders, down to the rope holding him against the back of the chair. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Fogs,” he drops to his knees, working at the knots in the rope. </p><p> </p><p>“I can feel my heartbeat in my teeth.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not good,” Matt says, gritting his own teeth as he tugs at the rope with shaking fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a fan,” Foggy agrees. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Fogs.”</p><p> </p><p>Foggy shrugs, pulling the ropes tighter, tugging the knot out of Matt’s fingers. “S’not your fault. I'm never eating here again.” </p><p> </p><p>Matt laughs, a desperate sound, drops his forehead to rest against the back of Foggy’s neck. His breath shakes out of him, unsteady and rough. </p><p> </p><p>“S’not your fault, Matty,” Foggy says again, softer. </p><p> </p><p>Matt takes another breath and straightens up, forgetting the knot and just working the ropes up Foggy’s shoulders, up over his head. He tosses them behind him and gets up off his knees, coming around so Foggy can see him. “Come on, buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ankles,” Foggy says, and Matt curses and drops once more to his knees, feeling for Foggy’s ankles. “There’s a, there’s a knife on the table.” </p><p> </p><p>Matt stops and swallows, blows a breath out through his nose and tries not to flinch when Foggy’s fingers pat clumsily at his head, flattening his hair under the cloth mask. “It’s okay,” Foggy says. His fingers come down and cup Matt’s cheek through the material. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” Matt sobs out a laugh, grabbing at Foggy’s hand, holding it to his face. Foggy lets out a pleased sound and pets at him. “I’m so high right now, buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt snorts, turning his face to push his eyes against Foggy’s palm, feeling his warmth through the fabric of the mask. He reaches behind him, slaps around on the desk for a moment before he grabs the knife. Cutting the ropes at Foggy’s ankles, Matt takes a deep breath and stands, dropping the knife back on the table as Foggy’s hand falls away from his cheek. He holds out his hands, palms up, and Foggy takes them, pulling himself up to standing. </p><p> </p><p>He immediately sways into Matt, stumbling forward with a startled noise.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit,” Foggy sighs, breath hot in Matt’s ear. “My legs are in a coma.”</p><p> </p><p>“Foggy,” Matt laughs helplessly, arms coming up to wrap around Foggy’s back, around his waist. He takes a step back and holds tight. </p><p> </p><p>“Gimme a minute,” Foggy breathes, toes bumping clumsily into Matt’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>Matt feels Foggy swallow, this throat moving against Matt’s shoulder. “You’re very strong,” Foggy says quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Matt blinks, fingers tightening in Foggy’s clothes, pressing into warm skin beneath. “Thanks?”</p><p> </p><p>“My face hurts,” Foggy says conversationally, scrubbing his cheek up against Matt’s neck. Matt’s stomach sinks, and Foggy pushes away from him, his jaw radiating heat, fingers gripping Matt’s shoulders tightly. “Okay. My legs are fuzzy now.” </p><p> </p><p>“What about,” Matt clears his throat, steadying Foggy at his waist. “What about the rest of you?”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Very </em>fuzzy,” Foggy says, and laughs, slapping Matt’s shoulders before letting go. “Let’s get outta here before this shit wears off and I start to cry.”</p><p> </p><p>“That's...Yeah. okay.” Matt licks his lips and cocks his head, listening. "There's no one close, let's go."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay," Foggy says. Matt hears him nod. "Can I, uh, can I hold onto you? I'm still wobbly and I want-"</p><p> </p><p>Matt blinks rapidly behind the mask. "Yeah, Fogs?"</p><p> </p><p>"I want to hold your arm."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure," Matt says, offering his elbow.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey," Foggy asks, hand sliding hot into the crook of Matt’s elbow.  "Role reversal."</p><p> </p><p>Matt snorts and leads them out the door. "Stay quiet, okay? I don't want to have to fight our way out. We'll sneak."</p><p> </p><p>"Quiet as a church mouse," Foggy whispers loudly. Matt grins and keeps them moving, going out the way he barreled in. Foggy’s hand squeezes at his elbow, gives it a pat and then gradually migrates, until Foggy has hooked his whole arm through Matt's and is leaning into him, steps getting heavy.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey," Matt finally says, when Foggy makes a humming sound as they step over a still-unconscious guard.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"You alright?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sleepy and you're warm and my stomach hurts and I can still feel my heartbeat in my teeth. Did you kill that guy?"</p><p> </p><p>Matt trips to a stop, turning with a frown. "Which- no. No one's dead. I di- I would-"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. It's okay." Foggy rests his cheek on Matt's shoulder and pats his upper arm. "You're <em> so </em> warm."</p><p> </p><p><em> "Foggy," </em> Matt says, throat tight.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry," Foggy whispers, pushing off, away from Matt's arm. "I'm sorry, I-"</p><p> </p><p>"Shh," Matt urges, grabbing Foggy by the shoulders and maneuvering him against the wall, behind a metal cart of some kind, something that might provide some cover. "Stay here and be quiet okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Be careful," Foggy tells him earnestly, hands gripping Matt’s elbows, fingers clenching. "Be real careful," he says again. "Don't get hurt."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay," Matt agrees, and turns just as the men burst through the doors from the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>There are three of them. Matt works frantically, focusing on getting the guns out of the picture before worrying about taking them down. He's… nicer than he might otherwise be. Less brutal. He doesn't want Foggy hurt but he can't scare him, doesn't want to be too much for him. He's trying to keep from getting punched in the head by one while choking out another when he finally notices the noises down at the other end of the hall. </p><p> </p><p>"No thank you!" Matt hears Foggy yell, and then a crashing thud as the cart tips over. Matt squeezes tighter and head butts the guy behind him, crushing his nose with the back of his skull, swinging around and using the momentum to lob both men into a corner.</p><p> </p><p>"Daredevil!" Foggy calls, breathless as he runs. "I'm escaping!"</p><p> </p><p>Matt barks out a laugh and tackles the guard who's chasing Foggy, crashing him headfirst into the wall as Foggy shoves his way through the doors into the kitchen. He turns the guy over, fists one hand in his collar and punches him once, twice, and then drops him when he goes limp.</p><p> </p><p>He shoulders through the swinging doors to the kitchen, listening and finding two heartbeats, Foggy's and someone else's, and the metallic cacophony of a struggle amidst cookery.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit!" Foggy yells, followed immediately by a thundering crash and a glooping splash. The kitchen floods with the savory smell of chicken and garlic and onions and Matt slips and goes down hard in a puddle of, of-</p><p> </p><p>"I spilled the soup," Foggy says, and then Matt hears the sound of a body sliding off the counter and crumpling to the floor. Something splashes onto Matt's cheek. </p><p> </p><p>"Did I kill that guy with soup?" Foggy asks tiredly. </p><p> </p><p>Matt pants and listens, swiping through the soup on his cheek. "No," he says after he pinpoints an unfamiliar heartbeat and the quiet breathing of the unconscious man. Grunting as he rolls and tries to stand, he feels Foggy reach a hand out and meets it, letting Foggy help him up to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>"You smell delicious," Foggy tells him, once he's upright.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks," Matt huffs. </p><p> </p><p>"Can we go now?" Foggy asks, his hands are trembling in Matt's. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, yeah let's get outta here."</p><p> </p><p>"Can we go home <em>together?"</em> Foggy asks. Matt slips in the soup again, and Foggy holds him up. "To either apartment, I don't care, I just don't want to be alone."</p><p> </p><p>"We're going to my apartment. They know who you are," Matt tells him, turning them towards the door, wrapping an arm around Foggy's waist.</p><p> </p><p>Foggy lets him, leans into his hold. "Oh yeah, what are we gonna do about that?"</p><p> </p><p>Matt takes a deep breath in through his nose, lets it out slowly. "I'm going to take them out and they're never going to bother you again."</p><p> </p><p>They drag themselves out of the restaurant through the back door, crunching alley gravel beneath their feet and dripping soup the whole way. Foggy pulls Matt's mask off and shoves it into a pocket when they reach the street.</p><p> </p><p>The soup and the late hour preclude a cab.</p><p> </p><p>Matt calls in a tip to the police once they're far enough away and tracks the sirens after a few minutes, hoping most of the gang is still there and about to be arrested.</p><p> </p><p>By the time they reach Matt's apartment Foggy is shaking all over and Matt is shivering with cold.</p><p> </p><p>Foggy had stopped talking two blocks ago, after Matt asked him if something was wrong and Foggy had said, quiet and after a long pause, "I don't think I wanna answer that."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay," Matt had said, rubbing his hand up and down Foggy's side, though he was nowhere near as cold as Matt. "Okay."</p><p> </p><p>"Global warming," Foggy says, as Matt ushers him into the apartment, blurts it out like he's been holding it behind his teeth, and then, "Sorry, sorry. That's a thing that's wrong. It's very difficult not to answer questions. I'm feeling, uh, I'm doing better now. That we're here."</p><p> </p><p>"It's ok. I'm glad you're feeling better." Matt pats his shoulder and leads him to the kitchen. "You want anything to drink?"</p><p> </p><p>"Whiskey," Foggy says without pause, and Matt, who has bent over to untie his boots, laughs and chokes on his spit.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry," Foggy tells him, patting his back.</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe you should start with water." Matt says, swallowing as he straightens up. </p><p> </p><p>"Probably," Foggy agrees.</p><p> </p><p>Matt steps out of his boots, listening as Foggy moves, brushing his fingers over the bottles of liquor on the shelf, before grabbing a glass and filling it from the pitcher in the fridge. </p><p> </p><p>"I've gotta take a shower, will you be- uh, just, let me know if you need anything."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, yeah." Foggy nods, and tosses back a swig of water like it's from one of the unlabeled bottles at Josie's. "I'll uh, I'm gonna sit."</p><p> </p><p>Matt hesitates, listening as Foggy toes his shoes off and takes his soupy blazer off.</p><p> </p><p>"Go on, man you're gross and cold," Foggy tells him, and Matt tips his head in agreement and heads towards the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>He strips off and scrubs up fast, using warm water and too much soap to try and rid himself of the soup smell. It mostly works.</p><p> </p><p>Foggy is on the couch, curled up in the corner of it and taking small sips of water when Matt emerges with a towel tucked around his waist. </p><p> </p><p>"How are you?" Matt asks before he can stop himself, and then winces. "Shit, sorry-"</p><p> </p><p>"I can't stop shaking," Foggy says with a sigh. "And my head hurts and my jaw hurts and my teeth are sore a little bit."</p><p> </p><p>Matt makes a sound in the back of his throat, takes a step forward before he remembers he's only in a towel. "Are you- Is there anything I can do?"</p><p> </p><p>"You could keep hanging out in a towel," Foggy suggests, and Matt pauses, blinking. "It's very distracting," Foggy explains, his voice much softer. "Or you could, um, shove a sock in my mouth until whatever this is wears off. That would be helpful."</p><p> </p><p>"How about," Matt says after a beat, "I bring you some aspirin?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, please," Foggy says, and takes another gulp of water. </p><p> </p><p>Matt retreats back to the bathroom and feels for the aspirin, shaking out three sour-smelling pills into his hand. His towel shifts on his way back to Foggy, slips half an inch down his waist, and Matt tugs it up distractedly, letting go to cup Foggy's trembling palm under his fist as he drops the tablets into it.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay?" Matt asks, wondering if he should ask at all, if Foggy wants to answer.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, thanks. Go put some clothes on, you're getting cold."</p><p> </p><p>Matt feels the goosebumps on his chest, swallows, and nods. He leaves Foggy but keeps him in focus, ears pricked for his heart and his breathing, both of which are slightly off. He finds soft, warm clothes, tugs them on and heads back, sitting gingerly next to Foggy on the couch. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you, should I call Claire?"</p><p> </p><p>Foggy, who is shivering in his too-cold skin, shakes his head. "It's just a bad trip, Matty, gotta ride it out."</p><p> </p><p>"Is-" Matt shifts forward and then back again when Foggy tenses. "What can I do?"</p><p> </p><p>"Goddammit," Foggy breathes, and Matt recoils.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Matt says, hands out and brushing over Foggy's shirt, down to his hands. They're clammy.</p><p> </p><p>"Stop being so solicitous, Matthew," Foggy grits out, and then, quieter, so quiet Matt's not sure anyone else would hear it. "You could hold onto me."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Matt says, fingers clenching tighter around Foggy's. Foggy groans, hands tugging away. Matt lets him pull back into himself and then scoots closer, knocking their hips together on the cushion. "C'mere."</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's fine."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not fine. Let me do this, please."</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, Foggy slumps and doesn't protest when Matt snakes an arm around his shoulders. "Is this, what exactly do you-"</p><p> </p><p>"Don't," Foggy says, voice desperate. "Please don't ask me what I want."</p><p> </p><p>Matt exhales, throat raw, and turns, pulling a leg up onto the couch and drawing Foggy closer, pulling him in. "I'm sorry," he says helplessly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry they took you. I'm sorry they did this."</p><p> </p><p>"Shut up, God, shut up," Foggy gasps into Matt's neck. "You're so dumb sometimes. Just stop talking."</p><p> </p><p>Matt swallows and nods, petting through Foggy's hair and rocking them, hating the shivers racking Foggy's solid frame. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck," Foggy whispers, when Matt pets down to the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He shivers harder, and his forehead is cool and damp when Matt presses his lips to it. Foggy reaches up, fists his hands into the soft collar of Matt's pajamas. "Fuck, this is so stupid."</p><p> </p><p>Matt makes a distressed noise, but doesn't say anything. He lets go of Foggy briefly, reaching up to drag the blanket off the back of the couch, and resolutely doesn't say anything when Foggy whimpers as Matt's hand slips from his hair. He tucks the blanket around Foggy's shoulders and arranges them better, shifting Foggy and pushing around until he's got one leg shoved between Foggy and the back of the couch, and the other tucked under his thighs, wrapping him up tight.</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe you can sleep it off," Matt says softly after a while, when Foggy’s breathing has calmed and his heartbeat is slower. </p><p> </p><p>"Mm," Foggy responds, his ear rubbing thoughtfully against Matt's shoulder. "Hard to sleep when you won't stop fucking talking."</p><p> </p><p>Matt snorts and sets his cheek against Foggy's hair, nostrils flaring at the sudden waft of Foggy’s shampoo, and his sweat, and just a hint of soup. </p><p> </p><p>"Stop sniffing me you weirdo."</p><p> </p><p>Matt grins and settles in against the back of the couch, wrapping his arms more securely around Foggy's shoulders. "Shut up and go to sleep."</p><p> </p><p>Foggy's breathing evens out eventually, getting slower and louder, deep, unselfconscious inhales that border suspiciously on snoring, followed by exhales that tickle over Matt's chest and send gooseflesh racing across his skin beneath his shirt. Matt swallows thickly and listens to it, to his steadying heart rate and the gratifying solidity of his snores. He feels the sleep-warm heaviness of Foggy's body, curled into his, and wonders what he'll feel like when he wakes up, what he'll want from Matt and if he'll ask for it, whatever it is.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't fall asleep on purpose, but the city outside his apartment is stirring awake when he becomes aware of Foggy trying to extricate himself from Matt's embrace. </p><p> </p><p>"What- what is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"I gotta pee," Foggy says, and climbs clumsily out of Matt's lap, taking a few tripping hops away from the couch until the blanket relinquishes its hold on his foot. </p><p> </p><p>Matt sniffs and rubs at the crust in the corners of his eyes, grimacing. There's a truck backing up behind the bakery a few blocks away. Matt can smell fresh bread and yeast and flour and hear someone closer to it than he is groaning at the warning beeps of the reversing truck. </p><p> </p><p>Foggy pees and washes his face and scrubs squeakily at his teeth with a fingertip. Matt stretches out his legs, ignoring his knees when they pop, and yawns.</p><p> </p><p>He stands up when Foggy comes shuffling out of the bathroom, yanks the blanket from where it's tucked in between the cushions and drapes it back over the couch. "Come to bed," he says, voice gruff with sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Foggy stops his shuffling, his heart suddenly hammering. </p><p> </p><p>"The couch hurts my neck," Matt says quickly, "I'm not- Just come to bed. Lie down with me. Please." Matt swallows and listens to Foggy's breathing, feeling helpless. "I'm sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"Stop apologizing."</p><p> </p><p>Matt shrugs and lets his hands flop back down to his sides.</p><p> </p><p>Foggy huffs and starts shuffling again, socked feet sliding over the hardwood. He moves towards the couch, and Matt tries not to breathe too heavily, too harshly. Foggy gets close, reaches out, wraps his fingers around Matt's wrist, and tugs gently. </p><p> </p><p>Matt laughs in relief and stumbles after him. </p><p> </p><p>He lets Foggy tow him to the bedroom, follows him onto the mattress after Foggy shoves the blankets back, and rolls into him, pushing close as Foggy pulls the blankets over their heads. They curl together, sharing breath in the warm space under the covers.</p><p> </p><p>"Go back to sleep," Foggy tells him in a whisper, voice hot and breath damp.</p><p> </p><p>"You first," Matt says, eyes already closed, spine relaxing into the firm embrace of the mattress. He reaches an arm out, fingers splaying and curling around the curve of Foggy's hip.</p><p> </p><p>"Matt."</p><p> </p><p>"Hm?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ask me in the morning. Ask me what I want."</p><p> </p><p>"It is the morning."</p><p> </p><p>"Stop being pedantic," Foggy tells him. </p><p> </p><p>Matt grins, letting Foggy poke him in the stomach. He shifts and settles further into the mattress. "Sure."</p><p><br/>
<br/>
*<br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Reviews give me life ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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